


Slightly Out of Focus

by Kimium



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Confusion, Flower Language, Gaps in memory, Headaches, Hint of supernatural forces/entities, It's more like lying and pretending everyone is on the same page, Kisses, Memory Loss, Multi, One Shot, POV shift between the Trio, Slightly dubious kisses, Sort of gaslighting? Not really?, alternate universe - modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24745192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimium/pseuds/Kimium
Summary: One Shot. Alternate Universe - Modern AU."A shiver ran down Owain’s spine. Something settled in his stomach, cold, slimy, and slightly off. It was as though someone had ever so slightly shifted his organs and skeleton so they were off center with his soul."OR "Severa’s mind lurched, almost snagging on something invisible, not quite able to reconcile, as though the invisible point was important…"OR "Inigo instantly wrapped his arms around the parcel, the paper crinkling in his grip. “Uh, thank you… um…” His brain stalled, almost stuttering in motion, like a car flipped over, the wheels still spinning but unable to gain traction."There is something off about the people Owain, Severa, and Inigo are meeting. But surely it's their imagination, right? (Something supernatural is lurking somewhere.)
Relationships: Camilla/Luna | Selena, Lazward | Laslow/Marx | Xander, Leon | Leo/Odin/Zero | Niles
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47





	Slightly Out of Focus

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> I thought this fic premise up last night at midnight when I couldn't fall asleep right away! I really wanted to write this fic with a slightly off feel. Nothing goes wrong, this isn't really "scary" but there is something off. That's what I wanted. I like the aesthetic of things that feel normal but the longer you're thinking about it or in that situation the less normal it grows. I hope I managed to write that tone well. I also really wanted to write as all three of the Trio. It was fun to swap perspectives. I haven't done that in a FE fic in a while. I hope you all enjoy this fic.
> 
> As always please feel free to leave kudos and or comments. Also, if you want to check out my tumblr it's right [here](http://www.kimium.tumblr.com).

**Owain**

Owain took one look at his fridge. The rustle of the city— people walking, talking, dogs barking, car engines roaring dully to life— filtered into his kitchen, muted, creating a hum that border lined the balance of nature and manmade. It was a dull background noise that laced between the soft whispers of the kitchen’s electronics and false silence only an urban setting could accomplish. The balance sat like an item just in the peripheral of Owain’s eyes, simultaneously present and invisible. He slammed his fridge door shut and sighed deeply. The almost empty contents of the fridge mocked him, reminding Owain that just because he was considered by society a functioning adult that he in truth wasn’t actually a functioning adult. Why was being an adult so difficult? Owain rubbed his head and glanced at his calendar, pinned to the fridge door by a couple of magnets. Said magnets were two awfully painted bears in raincoats. The colours were garish with a cheap bargain chocolate brown with an attempted neon yellow raincoat and moldy blueberry blue respectfully. Owain loved them with all his heart and had affectionately named them. (Ultimate Sun Destroyer for the yellow one and Death Shade Blueberry for the blue one.)

His calendar was a rip-away calendar, the kind that didn’t have different photos for each month, just a general image on the top with all of the month’s underneath. Each month was printed on cheap paper, flimsy and almost transparent if brought up to any respectable light. If Owain wrote on the calendar with anything heavier than a gel ink ballpoint pen the ink would leak through to the other side, so Owain used pencil. This week only had a couple of events scheduled, two being due dates for assignments and one an appointment with the bank. With both of his assignments in the final stages of editing Owain could afford the afternoon being dedicated to grocery shopping. It was, after all, at least a forty-minute endeavour.

With no time to lose, Owain grabbed his wallet, phone, and keys, stuffing them into his pocket. Exiting his apartment, Owain took the stairs down (since he was only on the third floor) and headed towards the bus stop. It was a good thing the day was clear, with partial clouds and sunshine beaming just enough down to remind everyone that yes, it was summer, and that just because it was cloudy it did not stop the force known as humidity. Everything, even the air was waving, as though the heat was curling the wind into a heat compressed fan. Humming lightly to himself, Owain ran his fingers through his hair, wincing at the messy locks. Good thing Severa wasn’t present or she’d scold him something fierce. Perhaps Owain should take into consideration a hair cut. It was getting long.

Taking a short cut, Owain by passed some shade curtesy of some trees. As he had left the residential area, more buildings for business were coming into view. Owain appreciated some of them, particularly the high rise with smooth blue glass all the way up and the shorter, but still tall library made of stone so dark it was almost black. He even appreciated the beautiful greenery outside of the buildings, especially the library with a tall oak tree, the roots breaking through the stone walkway in the front and the beautiful light blue flowers in the surrounding flower beds. If only it wasn’t so hot. Then maybe Owain could stop and look at the flowers…

_“Odin…”_

…appreciate the oak tree for more than just a quick point of relief from the heat…

_“Odin…”_

… but he had to go get…

_“Odin…!”_

… go get…

“Odin!”

Owain jerked himself upwards, the force dizzying. A dull ache throbbed behind his ears and back of his skull, like a small drum beating. The room focused and unfocused for a solid thirty seconds. Static danced in his ears, loud and fuzzy. Lifting his hand, Owain ran it over his face, pinching his nose at the bridge. Why was his head so…?

“Odin, pay attention.”

He looked up, hand falling from his face. Around him were shelves upon shelves of books. He was at a table, the kind that were cheaply distributed throughout schools. The top part in some areas had already peeled back, revealing dull beige patches. A few areas had pen marks, whether it was from people doodling or people accidentally writing past their papers, Owain wasn’t sure. There were also some holes in the side of the table from people pushing their pens or pencils into the cheap wood. A few textbooks as well as a notebook sat in front of Owain, a halfway doodle of a cat in the margin. In front of Owain were two people, one visibly frowning at him, straight blonde hair falling in a perfect cut around his gorgeous features. He was wearing a blue collared shirt, the sleeves short, and had a book in his hand, the spine running down his palm. It was almost as though he was ready to smack Owain upside the head with the book. The other person had long silver hair messily pulled back into a low ponytail. A non-descript eyepatch sat on one side of his face but his visible eye was a sharp blue. He was wearing a dark tank with a deep V neckline. A few necklaces sat on his neck, all leather with one having a few wooden beads. One of his hands was already half way across the table, as though he was leaning forward to shake Owain’s shoulder.

“Are you with us?” The silver haired man asked. “Or were you just daydreaming again?”

Owain blinked. “Huh?”

“I understand that this material is boring but you need to review it.” The blond man sighed, setting the book in his hand down.

“Oh, be a bit nicer to Odin.” The silver haired man laughed. “He’s distractible even on good days. Though I think there could be better things to distract him with besides studying.”

“Don’t start that.” A withering look was shot before the blond man looked at Owain again. “Are you good? At least for one more look through, Odin?”

A shiver ran down Owain’s spine. Something settled in his stomach, cold, slimy, and slightly off. It was as though someone had ever so slightly shifted his organs and skeleton so they were off center with his soul. A film still clung to his mind, less static and closer to fog. Details were obscured and for a moment, the cold feeling within Owain turned to fear, loosening his voice and jaw in a spark, sending blood pumping loudly through his body.

“Who are you?” He blurted out. “Where are we?”

The blond man wrinkled his nose and the silver haired one burst into laughter. “Odin, is this some sort of strange prank you and Niles cooked up?”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t even dream of this, Leo.” Niles wheezed. “My pranks are far more creative, thank-you-very-much.”

“Right.” Leo huffed. “Well, I suppose I’ll play along. We’re in the library, Odin. You asked us to join you on a, how did you word it?” Leo paused and looked up, as though thinking hard. “A quest filled with harrowing danger all for the forbidden fruit of knowledge?”

Studying… library… asking them for help… Owain’s mind was ramming against itself, almost as though there was a mental barrier within his mind, blocking him from something. It was as though something was tugging on his brain, a nagging that he was forgetting something. Owain leaned forward, half wanting to rest his head on the table and half wanting to full on lie down.

Niles snorted. “That’s how he worded it. Word for word. Amazing memory, Leo.”

“Thanks.” Leo dryly said. “So, now that we have that settled, let’s return to studying… Odin?”

The cool kiss of the table met Owain’s head. Ah, so he was lying down. When did he do that? He couldn’t figure it out. His brain was swimming, as though in a pool of Jell-O.

“Oh, oh dear.” Niles’s voice was suddenly beside Owain’s ear, a warm hand on his shoulders, rubbing gently. “Maybe we should call it for today and consider our studying done? What do you think, Odin?

Owain half nodded and was rewarded with a cool hand stroking his head, gently petting his hair. “Then we shall call it done for today. Sorry Odin. I didn’t think we were pushing you too hard. My mistake. I’ll do better next time.” That was Leo’s voice, also close to his ear. “We’ll take you home. Come on, let’s stand up.”

Warm hands gently tugged Owain up from the chair, the world blurring before slotting messily into place, as though a child had coloured the room out of the lines. Owain rocked back and forth roughly, balance failing him. Hastily, Owain reached out and grabbed tightly to Leo and Niles, who barely stumbled despite Owain’s weight slowly becoming dead weight.

“Easy there.” Niles looped an arm around Owain’s waist. “We’ll help you get home.”

“Yes, we’ll have another study session soon. You need to rest and get better.” Leo agreed, also looping an arm around Owain’s waist. “Up you go, Odin—”

They lurched him up and gravity lost itself for a moment. Owain groaned and the room spun out of control, as though gravity had all but given Owain up, flinging him into the atmosphere at an alarming speed. His stomach dropped from and Owain was falling… falling… his brain screamed for stability for—

“Ah, there we go.” Niles’s voice was once again at Owain’s ear. “You can let go of my arm, Odin.”

Oh. Owain’s consciousness rushed back, stability slamming itself into him, like a concrete block to the face. He was indeed gripping Niles’s arm tightly, digging smooth black beads of a bracelet against his hand and Niles’s wrist. A warm flush filled his face and Owain dropped his hand as though burned. Niles laughed.

“I don’t mind you clinging to me but I think I’d prefer a different sort of situation.”

“Niles…” Leo muttered. “Lower him to his bed.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.”

The soft blanket of Owain’s bed met his back. He melted into the bedding as his body loosely relaxed. Niles warmly chuckled and Leo half laughed. Two sets of hands touched his forehead and Owain half opened his eyes to see Niles and Leo looming over him.

“Rest up, Odin.” Leo said with fondness in his tone.

“We’ll see you later, Odin.” Niles added.

At once the tugging from earlier, the feeling of something snagging at the back of his mind, nagging him to remember rushed into Owain. Sleep was shoved slightly aside and he managed to look Leo and Niles directly in the eyes.

“Odin? That’s not my name.” He muttered.

Niles stared. Leo blinked. For a second, something was pressing in the room, filling it with a pressure that Owain couldn’t pinpoint.

“What are you talking about? Odin’s always been your name, silly.” Niles sighed, as though Owain was being childish. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Owain’s lips. It was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. “Just rest up. You’ll be yourself when you wake up.”

“Niles is right.” Leo also leaned forward and kissed Owain. “Sleep well, Odin.”

Warmth filled Owain and he half nodded. Rolling over he yawned before his eyes shut and sleep over took him, dragging him under.

~

When Owain woke up, he stretched and rubbed his eyes. The staleness of sleep and the strange blank space of memory accompanied it. Groaning, Owain sat up. His clothing was wrinkled and stiff, reminding Owain why he hated falling asleep in regular clothing. Tugging his phone out of his pocket, Owain winced. Did he really sleep the entire afternoon? His stomach growled, as though telling him he had but passive aggressively. With a lurch, Owain hobbled out of his room and towards his kitchen. Running a hand through his hair, wincing at the messy locks, Owain silently counted his blessings that Severa wasn’t there to scold him something fierce. Opening the fridge, Owain stared at the emptiness before slamming the door shut. Glancing at his calendar on the fridge (held up by two garish bear magnets, which Owain loved with all his heart) Owain scanned the week. He could afford to go grocery shopping. Sure, grocery shopping while hungry wasn’t the best idea, but if Owain took the short cut to the bus (past the library) he could make the trip a forty-minute errand. His stomach grumbled louder in protest.

“Well, this is what I get for sleeping the afternoon away rather than run an errand.” Owain scolded himself.

~

**Severa**

“I keep telling you,” Severa twirled the cord to her headphones with her finger, “that I can handle this on my own.”

 _“Severa.”_ Her mother’s voice came through, half pleading. _“It’s not that your father and I don’t think you can handle it. It’s just your father and I cannot help but worry.”_

“Mom…” Severa flopped herself down onto her bed. “It’s a trip to Regna Ferox. Not to Hoshido or somewhere else far from Ylisse. I’ll be with Lucina and Kjelle. I’m not going to be alone and it’s just for a weekend.”

_“I know, I know, but remember that time your aunt Flavia…”_

Severa sighed and adjusted herself on her bed so she was half prompted up by her pillows. Running her hands on the bedding under her, Severa smoothed the burgundy sheets, erasing the wrinkles. Her room was small, but it was thankfully big enough to hold not just her bed but also her entire dresser and desk. Renting in the city was always going to be expensive but there was no other option. Severa couldn’t stay with her parents out on the farm and attend school at the same time. It wasn’t possible. Besides, if she stayed with her parents no doubt sooner or later Severa would snap at them. Not that she didn’t love them (she did) but she was growing up, needing her own space.

_“… and I don’t mean to scare you with this tale, but do be careful.”_

Her mother’s voice registered back in Severa’s mind. Not that Severa needed to pay attention. She could practically cite the story word for word by now. One would think that her mother would clue in that the old story from her aunt Flavia wouldn’t be the sole cautionary tale her mother used. It was probably asking too much from her mother.

“Yes mom. I’ll be careful.” Severa dutifully repeated, attempting to keep her voice neutral.

_“Severa, are you trying to placate me?”_

So much for a neutral tone. Shaking her head violently for a moment, Severa remembered that her mother couldn’t see her. Her hair half fell out of her pigtails due to the action. “No mom, I’m not. I promise. I’m taking your advice seriously.” She added before grimacing at the sensation of hair loosely held back. “Look, I have things to do so can we talk later?” Severa stood up and headed to her bathroom, tucking her phone into her pocket.

_“Severa, we barely started to talk. It feels as though every time your father and I mention something slightly inconvenient to you there is some excuse to not talk to us.”_

Flicking the light to her bathroom Severa held back a groan as she looked in the mirror, the light from her bathroom temporarily flashing and blinding her. “Look, mom it isn’t like that—"

“Isn’t like what?” A perfect hand reached out and touched her hair. “Oh, Selena, your hair is falling out.”

Severa whipped her head up. A woman was standing in front of her. She was wearing designer clothing that was tailored to her specifically. Severa’s eyes immediately caught the details, the subtle floral design in the smooth grey, the hint of gold woven in the fabric. Trailing her gaze upwards, Severa noted long lilac hair, perfectly tossed and curled, subtle but effective make-up, coy eyes, a smooth smile. Severa’s mind lurched, almost snagging on something invisible, not quite able to reconcile, as though the invisible point was important…

“Selena?” The woman’s hand gently touched her face, nails perfectly rounded, manicured, and painted a neutral peach. “Are you all right, dear?”

“I… I’m fine.” Severa’s mind dropped heavily into her head, the invisible block fading. Dizziness hit her and Severa thickly swallowed. “Sorry. I missed what you said. What was it again?”

“Your hair, Selena.” The woman’s smile turned from gentle to almost teasing. “It’s falling out.”

Oh… Severa reached up and touched her head. Sure, enough one of her pigtails was half falling out. A rush of embarrassment, hot and fluid, painted her cheeks. What was she thinking, sitting in a disheveled state in front of… in front of… who?

“Perhaps you’ve been pushing yourself too hard with your travel plans, Selena dear. I’m Camilla, remember?” Camilla added with another teasing smile.

Camilla… right. Severa’s cheeks burned hotter, the pink morphing into red. “I… I…”

“No need to panic,” Camilla dropped her hand from Severa’s hair before stepping back, “it happens to the best of us. Now, do sit still. I don’t have a mirror but I’ll do my best.”

No mirror… wasn’t she just in her bathroom…? Severa glanced around. Now that Camilla was out of her sight Severa could see that they were outside on a bench. In front of her was a beautiful park with trees, walk ways, and even a small curve of landscaping along the slight hills. The sun was out but the bench was under a large tree, shading them from the heat. An almost languid silence filled the area, comforting and relaxing. Gentle fingers soon ran through Severa’s hair, halting all thoughts. Behind her, Camilla hummed and began to finger comb through, making sure the touch was light. Closing her eyes, Severa allowed Camilla to style her hair back into its signature pigtails. It was almost disappointing when Camilla’s hands left her hair. Severa’s stomach hit a small pit of disappointment before the hands returned to the other side. She opened her eyes quickly, almost jumping.

“Relax Selena. I cannot fix one side without making sure the other side is even.” Camilla gently said.

“Oh, uh, right.” Severa dropped her shoulders and sunk into the bench. “Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome.”

Camilla’s hands once again ran through her hair, gentle and sweet. When Severa’s hair was pulled up properly Camilla walked around and to the front of Severa. Reaching into her pocket, Camilla pulled out her phone.

“I’m afraid I don’t have a mirror but if you want to check your hair.” Camilla flipped her phone around, the screen catching the light, reflecting it back into Severa’s eyes.

She winced automatically and squeezed her eyes shut. White spots danced behind Severa’s eyelids and it took a long minute before she could open her eyes again, wincing as her vision slowly returned.

“Selena? Something wrong?”

Warm hands were around her face, one on her jaw and the other in her hair. Severa blinked once and saw Camilla in front of her, their faces close save for a scant distance. When had Camilla gotten so close? Where were they? Were they still in the park?

Fingers dug into Severa’s hair and gently tugged the hair down, Severa’s red locks tumbling over her shoulders. A pleased groan escaped Severa’s lips and Camilla’s eyes darkly followed the line of Severa’s throat to her jaw.

“That’s better.” Camilla muttered. “Your hair is lovely up but even lovelier down.”

Lovely up… Severa’s brain full on short circuited and a snag of memory caught. “Didn’t you just put my hair up?”

“What? No, I didn’t.” Camilla tilted her head. “I just tugged it down, Selena.”

Tugged it down… oh right, she did. What was Severa thinking… wait. “Selena? That’s…”

“Your name…?” Camilla raised an eyebrow. “Is something the matter?”

Was there something wrong? Severa tried to think but Camilla loomed closer until their lips weren’t apart. She kissed Severa very gently, but hungrily. All protests died on Severa’s lips as Camilla slowly tugged her lips open, pulling Severa closer, the flash of her eyes so bright it was almost blinding… catching Severa off guard, off balance…

~

Severa wobbled and nearly smacked her stomach into her bathroom counter. The light in her bathroom glowed above her, a beacon of white. Staring at herself in the mirror, Severa reached up and touched her hair. It was completely down, the red locks tumbling over her shoulders. As though watching a stranger, Severa touched her hair for a solid thirty seconds before her brain kickstarted. She was in the bathroom because she had to fix her hair. Right.

“Ugh I must be losing it.” Severa grumbled as she reached for her brush.

Smoothly Severa combed her hair before she pulled it up into her signature pigtails, a satisfied smile filtering across her face. Maybe she should take a photo. Severa reached for her phone to take a picture only to pause. Why were her headphones in? Did she forget to take them out? Tugging the cord, Severa watched her screen light up automatically at the loss. Unlocking her phone Severa blinked.

“Why am I in my phone log?” Severa muttered. ‘It isn’t as though I called anyone. Oh whatever.” She exited out and went to her camera app.

~

**Inigo**

Inigo was halfway out the door before his eyes caught the flowers, red and white roses, on the table. Said flowers were sitting in a simple glass vase from his mother. At the angle and position of the flowers Inigo could appreciate how the sunlight fell on the petals softly, the glass, twinkling, the water level…

“Oh shit, I need to refill that.”

Inigo allowed his door to slam shut loudly behind him as he raced to the kitchen, not bothering to kick off his shoes or note the rough treatment of his door. Grabbing the vase, Inigo half stepped into his kitchen, fingers fumbling to turn the tap on. With a messy twist of the knob, Inigo sighed as he turned the water on with a bit too high of water pressure. Not caring, Inigo shoved the vase under the stream of water and quickly pulled it out a few seconds later, less he over filled the vase. Water dripped down the side of the vase, pooling at the bottom. Inigo hastily grabbed a cloth to wipe it, but clearly missed some as when he set the vase back on the table it slid a bit due to the water. The condensation it would leave would unfortunately warp his table a bit but with a glance to the clock on his stove Inigo’s heart rate picked up slightly. His table would live. Wiping his damp hands on his jeans, Inigo raced out of his apartment, barely remembering to lock his door. On his side, his dancing bag bounced with each stride as Inigo made his way over to the theatre. Overhead the sun beamed down, almost attempting to coax Inigo to stop and walk. Tempting but practice was more important. Skidding down the street, Inigo half tripped up the stairs to the dance studio.

The studio was attached to the main theatre, a sort of small rectangular addition, almost as though someone had taken a block of butter and squished it down to roughly half its size. In contrast the theatre was tall with looming pillars holding up the front, the roof an elegant swoop, and the doors massive in both width and height. Skidding inside the studio, Inigo gasped for air, bent over at the waist, stomach slightly cramped. For a few minutes, Inigo enjoyed the cool air from the studio washing over him from the vent above before he stood up straight and walked further inside.

Inside the studio was divided into three parts. There was a main studio, the largest one in the middle while on the sides were two slightly smaller studios. All the studios were visible by the entrance due to a glass panels that ran along the one side. There were bathrooms and changerooms along the back of the studio. By the door was a shoe rack and coat racks for the winter.

Inigo went to the main studio, pushing the door open. A few people were already there, stretching and chatting. They waved to Inigo in greeting. Inigo dropped his bag along the side and went to the bar along the mirrors to stretch and warm up. Falling into a rhythm, Inigo allowed himself to cool down and relax. Their next show was in two months and there was no time to waste. When practice began Inigo threw himself into the work, enjoying the burn of muscles and the satisfaction of watching a routine fall into place. By the time they were done Inigo, although exhausted, felt a wave of pleasure at the results. Gulping down his water at an alarming rate, Inigo headed out of the studio towards the changeroom in hopes to quickly shower, just to get some of the sweat off. Once he was home, he’d probably shower, make dinner while listening to music, maybe even watch something as he ate…

“Laslow.” A very gentle hand touched his shoulder.

Stopping, Inigo looked up to see a very tall man with perfect blond hair, curling a bit at the ends. His button up shirt was dark, almost a plum purple, and his slacks neatly pressed. Inigo stared, briefly wondering how someone could wear such clothing in the summer heat. Then, his eyes caught a parcel in his arms, the brown paper instantly familiar combined with the shape.

“Here, these are for you.” The man pressed the parcel of flowers into Inigo’s arms. “I hope your practice went well?”

Inigo instantly wrapped his arms around the parcel, the paper crinkling in his grip. “Uh, thank you… um…” His brain stalled, almost stuttering in motion, like a car flipped over, the wheels still spinning but unable to gain traction.

“It’s Xander, same as all the other times we’ve talked, Laslow.” Xander gave a very fond smile, reaching out to brush some flyaway pink strands of Inigo’s hair.

“Ah, right.” Inigo looked at his feet. How did he forget that? He wanted the ground to swallow him whole. “I’m sorry. Practice was intense.”

“I imagine so. The show is in two months. Practice going well?” Xander asked, an arm falling to Inigo’s shoulder, steering him very gently towards the front door.

Oops. Inigo forgot to answer that. Xander was kind enough to ask the question twice and not bring Inigo’s blunder to light. What a gentleman. Just like he always was. Inigo gripped the flowers tighter, a small smile spreading across his face.

“Practice is great. We’ve really brought a lot of the piece together. I’m very excited to when we can finally go through the entire performance in a single run.”

“That sounds lovely. I look forward to seeing the show. I’ve already bought tickets.”

Inigo gasped and glanced directly up at Xander (the man was so tall in comparison to Inigo). “You did? I thought those sold out so quickly…”

“I was very quick.” Xander gave a very warm, but thin smile. “It is always worth it to see you dance.” He then steered them towards the parking lot, which ran along the side of the theatre and around to the back. “Though I hope you’re not working yourself too hard?”

“Oh, not at all.” Inigo quickly assured, pleasure at being doted upon danced across his cheeks. “I’m always making sure I’m fine.”

“Glad to hear.” Xander reached his car and opened the passenger’s door for Inigo. “That means you’re free?”

“I… suppose I am.” Inigo muttered. “Though I do need to go home and wash up…”

“Wash up?” Xander’s voice was suddenly on the other side of Inigo. “You’ve already done that, Laslow.”

Huh? Inigo blinked and looked down at himself. He was in the car, seatbelt across his lap. The cool leather seat of Xander’s car was pressed to his back. His clothing was clean and simple, a dark blue shirt and a pair of black jeans. Xander was driving the car, gaze ahead. Outside the cool glow of the evening danced, the sun slowly setting but the day still bright. Reality bled slowly into Inigo, almost like a leak of water. Where was his dancer’s bag? The flowers?

“You took those home.” Xander said, suddenly answering Inigo. Oh no, did he speak the last part aloud? “Now, I told you that you are picking where we’re eating tonight.”

Xander… did? Inigo bit his lip and swallowed. Great. Xander was just being nice and here Inigo was, being indecisive. How rude. Curling his hands against one another, Inigo quickly scanned his brain for restaurant names of places that were both affordable but also nice enough for a date.

(That is what this was, right?)

“Uh, I haven’t been to Coral in a while.”

“Coral.” Xander repeated. “A fine choice. They have excellent seafood.”

He sped up and entered the tunnel. Inigo watched absentmindedly as the orange yellow lights of the tunnel danced across his vision, almost soothing to witness, hypnotic…

“Laslow, we’re here.”

Jolting, Inigo looked up. They were standing in front of the restaurant. Xander was a half a step ahead of him, hand extended, waiting patiently for Inigo to take his. Blushing, Inigo reached out to take Xander’s hand. It was large, rough, and warm. Inigo loved the thrill that ran down his spine when he realised Xander’s hand engulfed his own so easily. Xander tugged him gently to his side and soon they were inside the restaurant. A moment later a waitress guided them to a table in the back, some beautiful plants half obscuring them. Inigo sat in front of Xander, the two of them staring at each other from across the table. Xander reached out and instead of taking the menu took one of Inigo’s hands (since when were his arms resting on the table?).

“Feel free to order whatever you like. It’s my treat.” Xander said.

“Ah… I… you don’t have to.” Inigo’s heart spluttered.

“I don’t but I want to.” Xander smiled before he half leaned over. “I’m very lucky that you were free and wanted to go out with me tonight.”

Inigo nearly squeaked before melting when Xander’s lips pressed against his, very gentle, very warm. The pressure made his heart thump and wish for more. Leaning further in Inigo kissed Xander a bit harder, with a bit more pressure…

His mind yanked back and then forward sharply, like an elastic band being snapped. Inigo gasped and fell forward harshly, nearly falling face first into his vase on his table. Gasping, Inigo winced and immediately lunged for the vase, his hands stabilising the glass. Distantly, Inigo noticed how the side was wet, as though he had hastily put the vase under the tap to fill it. A bit of condensation dripped down, probably warping the table. Sighing, Inigo stood up and went to grab the tea towel to wipe up the extra water. When he returned, Inigo stared at the flowers in the vase—Peruvian lilies their yellow almost an orange gold, blue cornflowers, pink chrysanthemums— and frowned, tilting his head. For a second, Inigo imagined red and white roses in the vase.

“Ridiculous.” Inigo shook his head. “You’ve worked too hard.”

Picking the vase up, Inigo went to wipe the bottom of it and the table when his eyes caught a card nestled within the greenery of the leaves. Setting the tea towel down almost absentmindedly, Inigo reached for the small square card.

“Since when do I have a card with my flowers?” Inigo asked as he flipped it over and read it, staring at the fine handwriting. “Who is Laslow?” He asked no one, the name sounding both foreign and familiar on his tongue.

**Author's Note:**

> Owain's fridge magnets: I was full on laughing to myself when I wrote those. Based them very loosely off of two bear magnets my parents have. Though not horrible looking and definitely cuter than the ones described here. I also got a kick out of coming up with the names of said bear magnets.
> 
> The Library: I didn't get around to describing just how Silent and Weird I wanted it to be but oh well.
> 
> Aunt Flavia: Just to clarify Flavia is a family friend so that's why she has the "Aunt" title.
> 
> Roses: I just picked red and white ones which usually have the connotation of love and passion. Of course, white and red mean two different things but I wanted their general meaning of passionate love to be the main focus.
> 
> Peruvian Lily, Cornflower, Pink Chrysanthemum: According to my quick search these mean devotion. Like the roses I just wanted a general theme for the flowers so while these can all have a variety of meaning for this fic I'm focused on the "Devotion" aspect.


End file.
